100 Days of Death Read Online Free PDF Page A

three evacuation centers locally. One is in Pasadena, one is in Thousand Oaks, and one is at the UCLA athletic field. The broadcast cut to file footage of fences, barricades, and military personnel around the UCLA field.
    The footage was taken from outside the secured area. At one point several hundred of Them rushed a section of the fence. Multiple geysers of flame shot out from behind the fence, scorching the attackers to a cinder.
    Gerald’s voice came over the images and warned that while the evacuation centers are secured and relatively safe, once civilians enter the facility, they are not allowed to leave. Military helicopters were taking off and landing constantly. Gerald continued to say that in an interview with a FEMA representative, he was told that there are plans to set up permanent facilities in the Mohave Desert and North Eastern California.
    The scene went back to Gerald, now running down a city street toward a waiting van, his cameraman following and panning back toward a pack of Them in pursuit. They both made it to the van where a woman was in the driver’s seat, waiting. The van door slammed shut and the van took off. The cameraman was upended by the acceleration but quickly centered on Gerald again.
    Gerald grinned and spoke to the camera. “This is Gerald Ritchie, reporting live from Inglewood. I’ll be back on the air tomorrow and every day at 12 noon. So until then, don’t give up, ‘cause you ain’t alone out there”.
    I heard the cameraman whoop in triumph and Gerald’s hand went off camera to high five his companion. The signal stopped broadcasting. I stood in front of the TV in stunned silence. My clock read 1:06 pm. Gerald and his crew seem fearless. I think I have a new hero.
    I went to work this afternoon with a renewed sense of purpose. I don’t feel so alone anymore. I armed myself and quietly went over my back fence into Dale and Margie’s yard next door. The gate to their driveway was secured. That only left their front door.
    I couldn’t get in through the back, which meant that I had to climb over their gate and go to the front of the house. I had planned to just shut and lock their front door, but I got curious and cautiously stepped inside. The smell was horrid. I let my CAR 15 hang on its single-point sling and drew my 1911 Colt. It was better for close quarters and I was confident of its stopping capabilities.
    Their house was silent. As I rounded the corner into their kitchen, I saw a body lying on the kitchen floor. The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. Brownish dried blood was everywhere. It was Margie, definitely dead. Her arm, shoulder, and portions of her back were eaten away.
    I checked my six and moved back down the hall to the bedrooms. Two of them were open and I checked them first. No sign of anyone.
    The door to the middle bedroom was closed. I turned the knob and opened it, stepping to the edge of the doorframe as I did so. The rotten smell hit me immediately. Just as I was about to enter the room, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, coming from the closet.
    Before I could even react I heard a crash, and something shot past me in a blur.
    I heard scraping and skittering across the hardwood floors in the hallway as something retreated up the hall. I turned in time to see Dale and Margie’s German Shepherd, Max, go tearing out the front door.
    F---ing dog! Even from just a glimpse, I could tell he was just skin and bones. I could have taken a shot at him (should have, because I’ll probably have to deal with him at some point later), but held my fire.
    My heart was threatening to leap out of my throat. When I finally calmed down enough, I checked the rest of the rooms; nothing. I went to the front to make sure I hadn’t attracted any unwanted attention and then secured the front door behind me as I left.
    It is only 3:30pm right now but I’ll check the other neighbor’s house tomorrow. I’ve had enough excitement for one day.
    DAY